


The Black Kitten with Puppy Dog Eyes

by theforgotternsecret



Series: My Supercatural [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Annoyed Sam, Cat, Catstiel, Charlie-alive?, Chill, Closeted Dean, Crack, Dean Hates Witches, Destiel - Freeform, Drunk very drunk Dean, Fluff and Crack, Gabriel Being Gabriel, Grumpy Cat Cas, I Love Charlie, M/M, Moose Sam Winchester, My feeble attempts of humour, So probably, Witches, cas cat, nah jk all the angst- cas cat tis mucho emo yo, sassy sammy, when did Gabriel have a dog?, witches-more like bitches amiright?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-16 11:28:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4623681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theforgotternsecret/pseuds/theforgotternsecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam 'finds' a grumpy little black kitten in a motel room after a hunt, and annoys the hell out of it. Then, determined to keep it, he annoys the hell out of Dean too. Things get even weirder when the younger Winchester discovers something. The cat is obsessed with his brother and for once in his life Dean does not mind a little creature literally rubbing itself against him at every possible moment.<br/>-<br/>Also I have made a collection called Supercatural so if any of you reading this wanna write a fic with one of the Supernatural squad please add it to this collection as I wanna read it :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  **Disclaimer: None of the Character's are mine, 'cept Cas in Cat form-I'm pretty sure that hasn't happened on the show so far which is a shame- they are owned by Eric Kripke and the supernatural team.**

Outside of room 199 Crystal Inn, Quechee Vermont, a deep voice slurred out “Greatsh hunt Sammys, **HIC** , siii'm going out toses celebrates. 'K?” The sound of heavy footsteps that follows this are muffled slightly by the carpet, the sigh, however, is not...

_Yeah Dean, it's been a great hunt,_ thought Sam walking into the motel room, which they had gotten for the week. Originally the brothers had planned to just stay one night away from their bunker, but the case had taken an unexpected turn.

Your hate for witches, just made the not-at-all-dull hunt go by so much quicker; listening to you whine about them non stop just makes time vanish, I swear. And Cas being so lovingly absent for the whole case: not answering your prayers; made the whole mess so much better. It's not like you where drinking all through this case, Dean, and practically leaping on any women unlucky enough to be around whilst Cas is away to show the angel, you don't need him? No, you, my big bro are **totally** hetro.

 

A confused “Merow?” gently prodded the edge of the ranting Winchester's hearing, and although it got completely ignored the slurs thrown at Dean shifted slightly.

 

Oh and that's another thing, you're NOT allergic to cats Dean, 'cause call me an idiot and all, but wasn't that house filled to the brim with cats? And did you even sneeze once? No! So when I found the courage to tell you I wanted a pet cat, because I thought they could look after themselves and therefore were a good pet for a hunter's lifestyle, you what? Made up an allergy? Thanks Dean, FEELING THE LOVE OVER HERE! You lied to your seven year old brother- does that not seem wrong to you?

 

The mews got more insistent.

 

So yeah, it was a 'great (sh) hunt', sure go 'celebrate' some more. Of course, you need to somehow get more drunk Dean!

Sam flopped onto the bed and accidentally engulfing the tiny ball of black fluff sitting on it, causing a terrified hiss to sound throughout the room.

I wonder how many women you manage to creep out tonight by moaning Cas' name as you pound into them: 7, 8?

 

A truly petrified meow vibrated against Sam's stomach as the puff ball struggled for air.

 

 “Can you just shut up, already?” Sam yelled at the terrified kitten trying to escape from underneath all his weight. He glared at the poor dishevelled cat. Then he blinked, and stared at it in horror.

 “Oh... Ahhhhhhh!” Screaming and jumping to his feet he let the creature free of his moose like weight, “Are you ok?” Sam asked the cat, holding out his hand in a placating fashion. The feline stared at the hunter's outstretched hand, and then at the hunter's face; it seemed confused. It looked back at the hand, before slowly lifting its wide blue eyes back to Sam's slightly confused green ones, and then- if the younger Winchester didn't know better, and cat's had eyebrows- raised its eyebrows as if insulted. Finally, it batted Sam's hand with its paw and jumped of the bed, mewing in a definitely irritated fashion, leaving Sam laughing at its attitude.

 “Aww you adorable, little, cat!” Sam called happily after the kitten stalking away. The cat turned mid step to glare at him with hatred and a sullen mew. Sam smiled. The cat looked as if he was doing his best at trying to roll his eyes, let out a puff of air, a little like a sigh in Sam's opinion, and growled at him. This probably didn't have the effect the cat wanted as the human reached down, plucked the fwuff ball back up and proceeded to hug the grumpy little cat midst a fresh bout of aggravated merows and hisses.

 

_I'm gonna make Dean let me keep you, somehow._

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Dean meets the cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry at how badly this turned out I have had the WORSE writer's block and it was driving me insane- but I wrote this chapter any way because I felt really bad, I will try to write again soon. AND it WILL be better than this chapter

“Grumphhh...greer.....sehh. SEHH!” Dean complained from the floor, Sam looked down with slight interest, his brother's eyes where firmly shut and as the older hunter propped himself up on the floor with one elbow, Sam speculated Dean was unaware of the ball of fluff trying desperately hanging onto his head.

 

“NEEh! Sammy close the curtains will-ya? I've had hangovers before but this, little sonovabitch, makes my head feel like needles are digging into it.”

Sam smirks,  _Close enough._  Then does grudgingly pull down the blind, _because contrary to what Dean constantly complains_ , Sam can, sometimes, be a helpful younger brother,

“Thanks Sammy,” Dean wipes the blood trickling down his forehead and peels his, slightly blood shot, eyes open. “Ugh... What did you spit on me again?” Sam shakes his head and flips his phone onto record. “What?”

After Sam shrugs, Dean turns his gaze to his hand and spotting the the smear of red he pokes the top of his head cautiously; looking for a cut. His fingers stroke the fluffy under belly of the cat. A loud purr rang out. “Dude did you just purr?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “Well my hair didn't.” He strokes the cat's stomach again thoughtfully.

Dean stares at Sam

“There's something on my head?”

“Give the man a medal.” Comments his brother scathingly, zooming the camera in on the cat.

“Right, WHAT?” As Dean shouts his fingers flick the feline's face, the cat's mouth opens in a cartoon like 'o' of surprise, the kitten shakes it's head, growls and sinks it's teeth into the probing limbs.

“AHHH! Sonova...” he swings the kitten, which is gripping onto his fingers with all its might, up and down swearing at the top of his voice.

The cat began to yowl biting only harder.

“HOW CAN IT HOLD ON AND HISS AT THE SAME DAMN TIME?!”

Dean tried prying it off with his other hand, the cat just racked its claws across his knuckles. The hunter yelled more abuse at the terrified and rather anger kitty, it had like its bed in Dean's hair and, unsurprisingly, didn't like being shaken at high speeds. Sam shook his head at his flailing brother and paused the video, “Dean," _You complete prat,_  "Put that poor cat down before you kill it.”

“That POOR CAT? YOUR SIDEING WITH THIS THING?! It's mauling my BLOODY hand off!” He gestured and with this movement managed to fling the startled cat into Sam's stomach. Catching the poor creature with UN-moose like agility, the Samsquatch glared at his brother before cradling the terrified black fur ball.  
  


“DEAN!” Sam yells, before bringing the cat to his chest. Murmuring: “Hey-hey its all right little kitty. The big-nasty-Dean-monster can't hurt you now.” in that sicking tone of voice everyone seems to use around young children and animals, straight onto the plush forehead he succeeded in terrifying the kitten even more.

“Merr-ow?” The cat tries to paw the huge face away from itself, revealing the surprisingly white pads of its obsidian paws.

“Awwwwww.....” Sam cried, ignoring, again, the cats blatant attempts to get away from him; held the kitten out in front of him- an area which, unfortunately, was being selfishly occupied by his brother's face. After a moment of stuttering and gagging from Dean and a startled “Mwerk.” from the cat, Dean got to make the snarky comment he had been wanting to since Sam held the cat up in such a strange pose.

“If you're gonna start singing Circle of life again Sammy, let me get my ear plugs in.”

“Shuddup, jerk. Look at this adorable thing,” and added more as an after thought “How any one could throw it across the room...”

The candy green eyes rolled before grudgingly fixing on the cat. It's almost pure black, the tips of its raven like ears where a eerie whitey gold in this light, and a dark blue collar that matched the most hypnotic, bluest eyes he had ever, ( _ok maybe second bluest- but as we are not thinking about him that's not really important is it, Dean?)_ seen, and like the other pair of eyes he was not thinking about, Dean's eyes where glued in a magnetic staring contest.

Several minuets past.

 

“See, Dean, he's cute isn't he?”

 

Using his brother's interruption, Dean wrenched his eyes out of the cats never ending gaze.

“Whaa- He? Oh.. Ewww Sammy, tell me you haven't checked?” The cat too seemed rather worried by this, so swiveled round and glared at Sam.

“It's a cat Dean, it wouldn't have been insulted if I had,” The kitten mewled ferociously in apparent disagreement. “Huh? well, maybe it would have, but no I have NOT checked Dean. But I just think he looks like a he, don't you?”

 

“How should I know? ” exasperated the older hunter cried, “Why do-ya even care, Sammy?”

The moose furrowed his brow for a second, thinking deeply, lips pursed together. When Sam's face finally cleared, and if his hands where free, Dean was pretty sure  Sam would have, snapped his fingers.

“I was trying to work out what this stood for...” Swiveling the cat back towards him self, Sam titled a silver charm, hanging off the cat's collar, into the wavering beams of the motel room's lights, emblazoned on the metal where the initials 'A.C'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorriieeee, I have loads of ACTUALLY good ideas for the next chapter though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm still alive.

A.C flopped gracefully out of Sam's hands, and settled into a stretch over Dean's shoes.

"Gee, Sammy I know- A.C, A cat? And I thought you where the 'smart' one. But hey, maybe Stanford's teachings couldn't penetrate through that: _hair_." Dean sneered in disdain, continuing to probe around for a nerve to hit. His head really did hurt, last night was rougher than he had planned, and Sam's smile **really** needed slapping off his face. The cat curled into a bundle on Dean's feet, descending into a light sleep. "And that's another thing, I wouldn't worry about it's name, we're not keeping this thing-"

The cat's eyes snapped open. "Him, Dean not it."

" _Fine._ We're not keeping hi- OW!" Sharp claws raked across Dean's legs and blue eyes fixed on his green ones, glittering with indignation. 

"Sam get this ratty thing off me." As Sam bent down the kitten hissed and bit at the younger Winchester's out stretch hands, backing into Dean's legs, then turned and swiped at Dean again before stalking off towards a corner of the room.

"Aww did I hurt your fweelings?" Snarling, the cat pivoted around and charged back towards the older hunter. Dean leaped onto a chair as elegant as a seal out of water.

"HAh- you can't get me now you overgrown rodent!" 

The cat growled at with such a anger he would put a tiger to shame.

"Sorry, I can't hear quite you from up here-"

"Merrw!" 

Sam stood totally still for a moment, bemused, before chuckling to himself.  

"What?" Both blue and green pairs of eyes where alike in their stony nature and their intent: to kill Sam Winchester with a glare.

"Oh, don't mind me, Dean. Continue your argument!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not  _arguing_ with it Sammy, just..."

"What, waging warfare? No that would also be stupid."

Dean's voice came out gruffly "...Yeah? I mean-" he coughs slightly "Yeah."

"So you're just playing with him then?"

The cat lay down where he was, in the middle of the room, and fell asleep again- clearly bored with the situation. 

"No..."

"Then how would you describe-"

"I'm going out." Dean interjected. "That rat," The cat opened one eye and glared at the exiting man "better be gone by the time I'm back Sam."

* * *

 

As the door closed the cat opened his other eye and stared at the other Winchester as if daring him to remove him from his comfy patch of carpet.

 "It's alright, you're not going anywhere;" Heavily, the moose sat down in front of the kitten. His eyes met the cat's and stared honestly into them "Believe it or not, this is the happiest Dean's been in a while." The feline shifted, then slowly paced towards him. 

"Meow?" Seemed to be inquired.

"Yeah, really. Y'know- you're a really weird little cat?"

The fluff ball rested it's head on Sam's knee.

"So you're letting me stroke you now?" Sam asked sceptically.

Claws dug into his thigh.

"Heh, that's a no then, anyway- Dean's been acting really weird since Cas left. You don't know Cas, but he's great- loves animals, I'm sure you'll get along. If its possible for you to get along with any one that is."

"Meehow.."

"Heh... Even though, I'm not getting rid of you, I have to at least pretend to look- otherwise Dean's going to get really annoyed." 

"Mew."  Sam took the reply as permission and snuck his knee out from underneath the cat before standing up and walking towards his laptop. On his way he paused and pulled the towel drying over the door of their bathroom.

"Also A.C. I reckon, Dean would rather you not sleep on his head. So there's this..." He placed the towel on the floor. Shrugging when the cat stayed nonchalantly where he was, Sam then resumed his mission to pretend to search for an adoption shelter. 

* * *

As soon as Dean was out of the door he sighed, looked over his shoulder and dug his phone out of his pocket. He began to dial as he walked, it went straight to voicemail. 

"You've reached the voice mail of... I don't understand why do you want me to say my name?" Dean smiled in spite of himself- he had called Cas about fifty times now but that would never get old.  He put the phone back in his pocket and walked faster, by the time he reached the bar he was practically sprinting. What would have surprised Sam, is that he continued on past it. A block later he slowed down, and pushed a pair of wooden doors open. He strolled into the church and, quickly, sat down on one of the pews: there he sat in prayer for about 2 hours. Then as abruptly as he entered he left, and this time he really did go to the bar.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The world swirled around him as his boots clattered against what he could only assume was the pavement. Continuing on the subject of blindly guessing, Dean suspected he was walking back towards the hotel he and Sam had set up camp in, but in reality he could be staggering anywhere. He was coming around to the opinion that downing a whole bottle of Tequila wasn't his best idea...Burning lights sped past, the apelike whoops of the signals of emergency vehicles filled the concrete jungle of New York, and the ground suddenly seemed a lot closer than it had a second ago. Bile pushed its way up his throat, clawing against its walls like a terrified gremlin. He then sat, hunched, over his pool of vomit for a moment, before pulling himself up on the convenient brick wall beside him, and to his feet. Dean half considered phoning his brother for help, but that brought up the uncomfortable memory of prayer so instead the stubborn hunter shrugged of his last grain of sense and resumed randomly rambling through the reserved world of darkness, one step at a time. 

One step, two, three...

Minuets pass in the eternity of his paces, each clunk of shoe on pavement mirrored the force of his heavy heart against his ribs. He wasn't scared of the darkness, of course he wasn't: he was Dean Winchester - hunter extraordinaire! Just two days ago he'd even taken down a coven of the most vile scum on the earth - witches. So no, it wasn't the claustrophobic curtain of gloom that had sparked a feverish panic in his heart. But in his intoxicated state and the emotional suppression that impeded him, constantly even when sober, Dean couldn't determine any cause to his panic. In fact if had just been more practised in determining his emotions, Dean would have probably realised the fear was more aligned with Athazagoraphobia or even just longing. He didn't realise this and walked faster trying to escape the unknown and as a result perhaps even more overwhelming fear. He fell over again. 

* * *

 

Somehow, Dean did finally manage to get back to the apartment; upon his entrance he was immediately greeted by the concerned hulk that was his brother.

"Dean?" the moose inquired, the bizarre image of an actually moose talking filled Dean's head and he couldn't suppress a chuckle. The chuckle morphed into a deranged giggling fit as he saw the confusion etched on Sam's face. He sauntered forward a couple of steps forward and clapped his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"You're too precious, Sammy." Dean tried to get out betwixt his laughter. He released his grip on the still befuddled Sam, kicked off his boots and walked towards his bed. He then collapsed face-first onto the self-same bed, letting out a soft groan.

"Night. Sammayh." he slurred into the pillow. Moments later he felt a light weight disturb the mattress and concluded that the kitten leapt beside him. Peeling open a bloodshot emerald eye, Dean regarded the ball of fluff and huffed. "G'night to you too." and patted the cat gruffly before closing his eyes again. 

* * *

 

 At some point during the night, A.C had snuggled into a fold on Dean's shirt, and when awoken by Sam not so subtly making coffee at half past eight (in the morning) the kitten had decided he was far too comfortable in what essentially had morphed into his bed to move. Only when he began to need his claws into the fabric an hour later, did this become a problem. Dean peeled his eye open and frowned at the feline. He halfheartedly swiped at the cat to encourage it to move, this failed so utterly that Sam, who had been watching to make sure his brother didn't kill the kitten, began to laugh to himself.

 "What are you smirking at bitch?" Dean asked rather gravelly. "If you had actually gotten rid of him like I'd asked, this rat wouldn't be causing any trouble."

The cat looked up, unamused, from his pawing, then seeming to let the insult pass twitched his nose before lying back down. 

"Actually, I meant to say about that," Sam paused for a second before adding "Jerk." Sure Dean seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood this morning but Sam didn't want to harm his plan. "I'm just about to go out to check this adoption centre I found online yesterday."

Dean itched his stubble and blinked himself to a bit more awake stage. "Kay, get me some breakfast while you're out."

"Pie?"

"Always pie." 

* * *

 

The door closed, something in the back of Dean's head shouted in annoyance, it took him a second to work out what it was complaining about. "DUDE- you left me with the cat?" The door didn't respond. "Doesn't it need feeding or something?" 

"SAMMY?" 

"SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!" Dean yelled, remarkably similar to a high-pitch whinny toddler for a macho man of tough masculinity.

The door swung back open, "What happened?" Sam asked.

"I can't look after it!"

"Huh? Oh." Guessing by Dean's frantic gesturing at the sleeping creature "I'll be back in like half an hour Dean, I doubt even _you_ could accidentally kill a cat in that time."

"Can't you take it with you?"

"Dean, we don't have a cat box. And there is no way I am carrying _him_ down a busy street."

"Hmm..."

"Just pretend he isn't there, if you're so scared. Cats really aren't high maintenance."

"I'm not scared."

"Right then Mcfly, I'm going to go out again, kay?"

"Hmm."

The door closed.

* * *

With no intention to check any centre Sam left Dean with the cat and walked to the a supermarket 20 minuets away, reasoning this 40 minuet trip would be believable. In the apartment Dean sat up, causing the sleeping kitten to start: regaining consciousness and mewling in fear as he fell the short yet petrifying distance to Dean's lap. He dug his claws into Dean's thigh as a thank-you to his rude awaking.

"AH, sorry little fella." Dean plucked up the cat and transported him to the bed.

"Meewl?"

"I mean- yeah," He gruffened his voice "Just stay there."

Blue eyes met his as the kitten took a sassy step forward. Then re-burrowed into the covers to get back to a sleeping position. Dean felt his heart warming against his will, and so pinched the bridge of his nose to remind himself of his machoness, then went to clean his teeth.

When he had done, his mouth was still dry but it no longer tasted like death and hopefully smelled more like peppermint than a rat's ass, he walked back over to his bed and settled beside A.C., deciding to use his Sam free time to quickly send an early morning plea to a missing angel. Unsurprisingly, there was no immediate response. His heart beat peaked again as he waited in the silence for something, anything. 10 minuets sped by, before he gave up. Hanging his head in his hands he resolved to wait 10 minuets more, and then another.

The cat shifted awkwardly beside him.

At the end of another three minuets he felt something akin to a tear well in his left eye and sighed about to give up. 

A light pressure rested on the crook of his elbow, he looked, and there was the cat nuzzling desperately against him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urfgh at the rate this is going Dean's gonna be drunk in every chapter, and I really hate writing drunk people  
> also no, Athazagoraphobia is a word, I didn't have a stroke and happen to collapse onto the keyboard.  
> P.S. Never ask me to pronounce it. :)


	5. Chapter 5

 For Dean, it was quite impressive how quickly the almost-tear in his eye disappeared at the cat's insistent head butting. If it wasn't impossible, he would have said, that the contact had not only combated his emotional pain but also a physical one. If it wasn't impossible, he might have said that the cat's soft paw, whilst resting upon his hand, had completely eradicated his hangover induced head ache. No if it wasn't impossible, he'd have said the way the cat looked combined with it's healing powers sort of reminded Castiel. But it was impossible. There was no way in hell, heaven or purgatory, that Dean was crazy enough to even think for a second that the cat could be Cas. Sure he missed the guy, but in a friendly way, not in a strange way, and definitely not in an obsessive enough way to think that a CAT was Castiel in disguise.  

A.C. struggled to pull his paw out of the clamp like clasp Dean had unconsciously put it under, mewing furiously. His paw's soft fur had become matted and sticky under the sweat leaking from Dean's palm. A.C. hated it. 

That would not just be weird, Dean continued to think ignoring the cat's pleas, that would be insane- he didn't even miss the angel that much. Cas was allowed to live his life, sure it would have been nice if he could just tell Dean if he was going to randomly disappear, just to dispel his worrying. They where friends and friends tend to tell each other that sort of thing, right? Not that Dean WAS worrying or anything. 

A.C. racked his claws over Dean's knuckles as he finally manage to free himself, the pain successfully dragged Dean out of his reverie. 

"Sonofa!" 

Not bothering to respond the cat flopped down off of his bed, and started to prowl towards the motel's kitchenette.

"Dude? What's wrong?" Dean reached down and gingerly pocked the retreating cat's ear. After turning, and regarding the human disdainfully with his blue eyes, A.C continued on his march away from Dean. Sighing, the hunter followed him- stating the obvious: "You're hungry?". The kitten flipped his head around at breakneck speed and meowed in a lower octave than usual, to what would translate, roughly, to "No shit Sherlock!" Dean laughed, both at his own stupidity and at the cat's antics, then walked past quadruped to the mini fridge. He opened it and began to reach for- he realised halfway through the action that he had no idea what he could feed to a cat, but he had a hunch that the day old ramen his hand was hovering over probably wasn't suitable.

"Ummm..."

The cat rushed past him and examined the contents of the fridge: apart from 3 cases of beer, a whole brigade of left over fast food, and something that might have once been a chocolate bar. A.C. looked inquisitively up at Dean, "Yeah I don't quite know how most of this is already toxic, me and Sam have only been here like three days. But uh any ideas?"

Of course talking to a cat like it could understand you wasn't weird at all, sniped Dean at himself. The cat in question looked as if it was trying to shrug, but ended up lifting his forepaws up, disrupting his own balance, and as a result found himself toppling face first on to the floor. Dean laughed slightly as the cat growled in annoyance. "Do you want to wait until Sam gets back?" The kitten growled again, the threatening noise completely juxtaposing its cuteness. 

"No? Ok, but don't kill me..." Dean scooped the cat up in one hand and took the ceasing of the growls to mean that he probably wouldn't get killed. "To the shop it is then."

 

* * *

 

Charlie was lying on the floor, doodling something that looked like a hammer surrounded by a chain of ivy, when her began phone to ring from the other side of the apartment.

'This town was built on muddy stilts  
By the lunatic parade'

She sighed, finished shading an Ivy vine then pushed her self up.

'It rains like Revelations'

"I got it!" She yelled out of habit, the empty apartment offered no reply.

  
'Gonna wash these freaks away'

She tapped her foot impatiently to the tune whilst checking under the nearby sofa's cushions, she sighed again. 

  
'Some girls wanna hold your hand  
And some girls like to pray'

Running into her bedroom Charlie began to mouth the words, her head bobbing against her annoyance, and glided fabulously over the glazed floorboards in her socks. 

'Well my girl takes her drinks  
With dust and rusty razor blades'

 

"'Sup?"

 "Charlie?"

 "Deeean? Haiii!"

 "I need your help,"

Charlie slid towards her computer, "Shoot-"

 "You're a lesbian right?" She rolled her eyes,

"Well last time I checked..."

"So you like cats?"

"Dean I'm disappointed, that's a stupid stereotype."

"Yeah I know, but do you.. Know about them?"  
  
"Yeah, but that's beside the point- Why? Hangon oOMY GOD do you have-"

A muffled "Ow you little rat." Cut her off.

"Dean are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine- Anyway, Charlie- what should you feed a cat?"

"Cat food... So you do have a cat?"

"Thanks.'

She began to shout "How did you not tell me you have a spocking cat?" But before she had formed the second word Dean had hung up. Sighing the red head rang the moose, and to her surprise found the number was inaccessible. On a hunch, she tried to call Dean back and got the same ominous message: this number can not be reached. She was going to have to rock up at their motel unannounced then...

With a dramatic sweep of her fingers across her laptop's keyboard she logged in, ready to begin tracking the Winchester bros. 

 

 

* * *

 

Dean had taken Charlie's novel advice and had taken the turn down the pet food aisle; now he and A.C. where staring blankly at the endless wall of aluminium cans.

"Um..."

For about half a second, Dean considered calling Charlie back and asking about brands but he stopped himself. He had been literally to hell and back, so he could decide what was the best cat food on his own. He stares at the wall again at a complete loss. He focuses on a can and huffs out a laugh.

"Well D.C, " Dean picks the Tiki cat food tin up "He looks like you doesn't he?" 

Not amused by the nickname or the comparison to a cartoon cat, A.C mewls threateningly. 

"Sorry sir,"

A clattering of high heels against marble, grew in it's volume, suggesting to Dean that he was the 'sir',

"Animals are not allowed in this supermarket."

Dean turning to face what the name tag proudly stated, whilst somehow keeping place on the bouncing surface of a pair of at least double c's, 'Ivanna Kutchukokoff (on the site manager of target)'. Normally, the cascade of unicorn blue curled hair swinging freely behind her, combined with her aforementioned generous endowment and her crazily hypnotising whiskey like eyes would have somewhat distracted Dean; A.C. had other ideas and so had sunk his teeth into Dean's thumb. 

"Ow... Uh, Ivanna he's a work cat?"

"Is he?" Her voice was high pitched and slightly strained, it had a Canadian esq lilt at the end of the question. Like her physical appearance the sound was beautiful if slightly strange. 

"Yes." Dean tried to inflict his default confident and slightly arousing tone. This earnt a raised green eyebrow and a not so subtle hiss from the creature in his hands.

The manger flicked her slightly shaded eyes to the bundle of fluff and smiled. "Oh hello, you're a cutie aren't you!" Her voice had spiked higher. She lent towards A.C. to peer intently at his face, "Aren't you?"  she bopped the cat on his nose and pulled back her fingers before A.C. finished his swipe at them, annoyed he let out a truly frightening hiss and puled himself up Dean's top away from the woman. Dean stared bemusedly at the cat that was shredding his top in a desperate climb past his left nipple, and lifted his hand in a protective blanket around A.C.

"I think he likes you."

Ivanna laughed a weird tinkling chuckle. "Almost everybody does! I think in this case, as he's a" She did a pantomine version of Dean's gruff tone "'Work' cat," before returning to her normal octave with a glint in her eyes "He can remain in store."

The hunter smiled and pryed the cat from his shirt to hold the kitten in front of his face looking him seriously in the eye, "See, A.C. she's nice."

"Mehell?"  Dean turned the kitten to face her, trying to make a point. All that A.C. saw was a rather obnoxious shit eating grin.

Placing the still not quite convinced cat onto his shoulder Dean thanked the manger.

"It's alright, is there anything I can help you with?" 

Dean tried to ignore her seductive wink. "Yeah, what uh, brand would you -" 

Everything went black.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlie's ring tone: she's my man, Scissor Sisters
> 
> cause why not


End file.
